


chronicle

by clumsygyrl (thegirlthatisclumsy)



Series: Trope Meme September 2012 [8]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Tropes, huddling together for warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlthatisclumsy/pseuds/clumsygyrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cave was barely a hole in the side of the mountain. Pick up was thirty six hours out plus a day's hike down the frozen pile of rocks where they were stuck for the night. The snow whipped across the entrance and Clint fought back the full body shiver. He hated the cold. He'd hated it since before he could remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chronicle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hammerhead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hammerhead/gifts).



> For hammerhead22 who wanted Clint and Coulson huddling together for warmth.

The cave was barely a hole in the side of the mountain. Pick up was thirty six hours out plus a day's hike down the frozen pile of rocks where they were stuck for the night. The snow whipped across the entrance and Clint fought back the full body shiver. He hated the cold. He'd hated it since before he could remember.

Then again he grew up not knowing what warm really felt like.

Clint's eyes darted back to his handler, body prone and face only slightly slackened from the pain. Clint knew how much a dislocated shoulder hurt. He cursed himself again at the complete FUBAR they'd done of the mission. "Coulson, Coulson, come on, stay awake. You can't sleep."

Coulson struggled to sit up and winced. Clint had managed to rig up a sort of strap and sling for Coulson's arm and shoulder, but he couldn't do much for the concussion Coulson had.

The bandage at the back of his head wasn't soaked through with blood, but the gash was still pretty deep. The Quickclot had done it's job, but Clint knew just how much getting cold cocked with a rifle butt felt like. Clint felt no remorse at all for unloading a couple of rounds into the fucker's face who'd hurt his handler.

"'m good, Barton. Sit rep?" Coulson's eyes focused on Clint's face then slid to the cave's entrance. "Transpo isn't coming for us till tomorrow." It was a statement, not a question, and Clint knew he didn't have to answer. 

"Thirty six hours out and about 6 clicks southeast. With your injuries we should make it in time, sir." Clint followed Coulson's look at the weather and grimaced. "Weather permitting."

Coulson shifted and tried to sit up. Clint hurried to help him. He braced Coulson up against the rock wall and he pulled the all weather blanket over him and wondered if he could manage a fire. It wasn't looking like it would do any good. "Visibility is shit. I don't think I could find firewood if it fell on me, sir."

Coulson laughed at that. "You were never a boy scout, Barton. We'll be fine. We're pretty well protected. What are our supplies?"

Clint pulled out everything he had in his pack and his hand kept wanting to have his gun in it. The hostiles hadn't all be taken out by Clint or Coulson and he knew that they were still in danger. They were sitting ducks, but as much as the blizzard was hurting them, the weather also helped keep them hidden. "Never a boy scout but I've made out with a few leaders," Clint lined up their rations and frowned. "Two MREs, some matches, two k-bars, couple of powerbars, two bottles of water, map, busted comm line, mini first aid kit, my quiver with two acid arrows, one EMP, a grappling, two titanium tipped." Clint tapped the last item. "And a book about some kids causing a ruckus in a closet."

Coulson smiled at that. "How far have you made it?"

"Just started really. Edmund just ate those nasty sounding candy things," Clint said and started to open up the first MRE and he cracked open the water and shook out some painkillers for Coulson. 

"Ah, I can't remember if Lucy's gone through yet," Coulson took the pills and dry swallowed and then took a small sip to chase them. 

Clint watched some of the pain ease out of Coulson's face after a few minutes. "Don't know. I keep getting distracted." He grinned when Coulson laughed. "Sorry we're taking up so much of your valuable reading time, Agent."

Coulson yawned and Clint sat next to him, their shoulders touching. "How's the shoulder, sir?”

“Feels like it's been dislocated and popped back in,” Coulson slumped and Clint took the weight. He slid his arm around Coulson's shoulders and arranged it so that Clint's body padded Coulson's from the cold stone and he could still keep an eye on the entrance to the cave. “I'll take first watch. Sleep if you can.”

Clint snorted at that. “Uh, no. I've survived on less, sir. You sleep. You slipping into a coma before I can get you back for Thanksgiving? Your Ma would kill me.”

 

“Nah, she likes you better than most of my sisters,” Coulson sighed and relaxed a bit more, turning his face to press against Clint's neck. Clint let himself shiver and he brushed his lips against the top of Coulson's baby fine hair. 

“Go to sleep, sir. I'll keep watch.” Clint's hand tightened on the grip of his SIG and he glanced at his watch. It was hours till dawn and even then he wasn't sure what visibility was going to be like. They had cold weather gear, but Coulson had lost his pack in the scuffle and dash. 

“Always do, Clint,” Coulson muttered against Clint's shoulder, eyes already closing.

“I always will, sir.” Clint pulled Phil closer and shared his heat. 

=-=

Years later when Darcy asked Clint what the worst birthday he'd ever had was, he would give a different answer each time.

“Okay, so what was the best one?” Darcy had somehow managed to finagle a free meal out of Clint and Phil. She was working on a doctorate and generally made herself a nuisance at their place whenever she could get away from books and notes.

“Greenland,” Clint said and smirked when Phil snorted.

“Liar,” Phil said adding a couple of pinches of cumin to the sauce on the stove. 

Clint put a hand to his chest and nodded at Darcy. “It was the best because I was with Phil. It was snowy and we were all alone. He slept on me while I read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe to him. He let me pet his hair and it was the first time he let me handle his piece.”

Phil rolled his eyes and he pushed Clint out of the way gently with a hip check. “You are grossly over romanticizing a head injury and risks of hypothermia.”

Clint leaned in and topped off Darcy's glass of red. “It was the first time I told him I loved him.”

“He did it while I was asleep,” Phil said pointing the spoon at Clint. Clint obliged and took a lick. 

“More salt. And I did say it while he was asleep, but he let me tell him again when we were running for our lives,” Clint rubbed a faint scar at the base of Phil's skull.

Phil gave Darcy another eye roll. “His best birthday is filled with gunfire and explosions. Look surprised, Miss Lewis.”

“Oh, I don't know. It's sweet. What'd you end up getting him?” Darcy grinned when Clint, in one of the few times she'd known him, blushed from cheeks to neck. “Oh, oh this is going to be goooood.”

Phil tugged till Clint rested against him and smiled gently remembering the sounds of rock and metal exploding and of heavy gunfire. “Gave him a ring and asked him to marry me.”

Darcy groaned. “You guys are a fucking romance novel. One with a Fabio cover. That is disgustingly sweet.”

“To be fair, the ring came from the grenade Phil tossed at the hostiles.”

“It worked, didn't it?”

Clint laughed and nodded. “That it did, sir.” He pressed Phil up against the counter and kissed him long and slow.

Darcy just sighed and sat back preparing to be ignored for a while. She really hoped they didn't burn dinner. It smelled delicious.

=-=

“All shall be done, but it may be harder than you think.” - C.S. Lewis (The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe)

**Author's Note:**

> Sidenote: Clint wears his "engagement" ring on a chain with his dog tags. His wedding ring is tattooed on and Phil never takes his off. I like to add Darcy Lewis in most situations. Not sorry about that at all.


End file.
